


Raining Feathers

by Quetzalcoatls



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Harry Potter - Freeform, angel!harry potter, oneshots, or maybe twoshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-07 10:44:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5453810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quetzalcoatls/pseuds/Quetzalcoatls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one/twoshot stories featuring tales of the angels of supernatural and various crossovers therein. </p><p>Chapter one - Wings of Stardust<br/>harry potter/supernatural </p><p>In Gabriel’s many flings he always made sure he never had any accidents, except once, a lovely red haired woman in the UK. 9 months later a baby is born with invisible black wings that glitter like a star scattered sky, a baby no mere mortal magic could ever kill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Story list

**Author's Note:**

> i decided to start putting my oneshot stories together in here rather then post them all individually. some of these will only be one chapter, some might be two. if they become longer than that they will gain a separate posting.

Chapter list

chapter 1

\- Wings of stardust -

Harry potter / supernatural

Harry potter, Gabriel, God

In Gabriel's many flings he always made sure he never had any accidents, except once, a lovely red haired woman in the UK. 9 months later a baby is born with invisible black wings that glitter like a star scattered sky, a baby no mere mortal magic could ever kill.

Chapter 2

\- This was never part of The Plan

Chuck(God), Dean.

summery - When dean broke in hell something strange happened and Dean vanished. A month later Dean turns up on Earth just fine. Now everyone is scrambling to figure out how Dean learned about The Plan, and how to get the apocalypse back on track. Unfortunately for them Dean has a bit more than luck going for him this time.

chapter 3

-Holding onto Heaven

Dean, Michael!Dean, Sam, Michael, Cas, God, Lucifer.

During the song remains the same, Dean learns something terrifying. Contrary to what the angels have been telling him he's not Michaels vessel, he IS Michael. He's sent back to the future by his 'past self' with this knowledge. What can he do, now that he knows the truth?


	2. Wings of Stardust 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Gabriel’s many flings he always made sure he never had any accidents, except once, a lovely red haired woman in the UK. 9 months later a baby is born with invisible black wings that glitter like a star scattered sky, a baby no mere mortal magic could ever kill.

Freak, no the nice man said it was Hadrian not freak, Hadrian smiled shyly up at the odd man who had rescued him from the Dursleys. He wasn’t sure who he was or why he would want to help him, but he was just happy to be out in the sunlight and warm air. He was always so cold back home, with only his tiny ratty blanket to keep him warm. The man glanced down and smiled back, tightening his grip on Hadrian’s tiny hand a bit.

                Hadrian barely noticed the massive buildings that towered overhead to busy marveling at being warm and having new cloths and not being hungry. He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been hungry, he hadn’t really realized that your stomach wasn’t supposed to hurt. ‘Chuck’ sighed softly at the boy’s thoughts, silently cursing himself for waiting so long to save the boy. It had been necessary though, he hated letting things happen sometimes, but if he wanted to save as many of his children as possible it had to happen that way. He intended to make up for it though, what kind of grandpa would he be if he didn’t?

He still couldn’t quite figure out where he’d gone wrong with his children, but then that was the problem with free will, it was chaotic. Predicting things and figuring out where exactly problems originated from was infinitely harder when you factored in free will. But that wouldn’t stop him from trying to fix It, it was just doing so without breaking his own rules was proving to be an exercise in frustration and patience. He was fairly certain he’d gotten it figured out this time – of course he’d thought that last time he’d tried something major. But he’d hedged his bets this time, and little Hadrian was an ace he honestly hadn’t seen coming. In all the other futures he’d looked at Hadrian had been a human wizard, one favored by Death, but still a human wizard. The current situation had really come out of left field. This Hadrian was only half human, the other half – well, the other half was Archangel.

He hadn’t liked like last group of Nephilim in the slightest, but that wasn’t because they were Nephil. No, it had been more complicated than that. Far far more complicated, not that any of the angels had considered that. (the fact that rape had been involved in more than a few of those cases hadn’t helped in the slightest) Little Hadrian was what he’d liked them to have been. All the best traits of both angels and humans in one form. Hadrian was of course far from a perfect creature, but he didn’t need to be perfect. Not to help the boys fix everything.

Pulling his thoughts away from the rather dark path they’d taken he turned off the sidewalk and led Hadrian into the tiny ice cream shop. This little shop in Chicago was a favorite of his, they had what he personally thought was the best chocolate ice cream of the current era. Looking down at Hadrian he smiled softly at the look of wide eyed wonder on the boy’s face. His six tiny sparkling black wings flicking excitedly. “what flavor do you want to try, Hadrian?” he asked, Hadrian looked up at him dumbfounded.

“I get to try ice cream?” he asked, his voice full of awe. ‘Chuck’ nodded.

“Any flavor you want.” He agreed. Hadrian starred at the list of flavors on the wall looking overwhelmed.

“How about the chocolate?” ‘Chuck’ asked. “If you don’t like it you can try something else.” Hadrian nodded rapidly looking excited. Turning to the amused looking vender he ordered two scoops of chocolate ice cream before leading Hadrian back out to the tables out front. The startled look on the little boys face when he tried his first bite earned a chuckle. Shaking his head as Hadrian dove into the bowl of ice cream with all the gusto deserving of a normal five-year-old.

Taking a bite of his own ice cream he let the hold on his power slip just slightly, making sure only one of his children would sense it and sat back to wait.

X X X

Gabriel nearly had a heart attack when the faint wash of power crossed his senses. He froze utterly still not believing what he was feeling. After all this time, why now? Turning he zeroed in on the source. Chicago.

He hesitated uncertainly. After all this time pretending to be a pagan god, would He even want to see him? Glancing around himself he abandoned his current project without another thought appearing a few streets over from where he sensed his father. Filled with trepidation he walked to the corner and looked down the street. Almost instantly he found his gaze caught by a young man sitting at an ice cream shop halfway down. The ‘human’ stared right back at him, a faint smile on his lips. Gabriel gulped silently, suddenly terrified. An eye brow was quirked up. Gabriel winced before moving around the corner and down the street. He didn’t doubt that he would find himself at the shop whether he liked it or not if he stalled too much. Might as well get there under his own power.

A minute later he was sitting in the metal chair across from his father feeling unbelievably awkward. God starred at him, looking slightly amused. Gabriel stared at the table resolutely. “I’m not angry at you Gabriel.” He said after a long moment. Gabriel blinked looking up in surprise. “how could I be?” he continued. “you did pretty much the same thing I did,” Gabriel stared dumbfounded, he…. Had what?

“huh?” he answered unintelligently. God gave him a rather lopsided smile.

“I couldn’t listen to them all fight anymore either. Nothing I said seemed to help. They all just followed blindly instead of actually listening.” Gabriel stared in astonishment. He felt in that moment like an unbelievable ass. He had cursed his father for millennia for leaving them after Lucifer had been sealed away. He’d never stopped to think about why he’d left. And that maybe he had gone for the same reasons.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered finally, God smiled sadly.

“It’s alright, Gabriel.” Gabriel was about to answer when the clatter of a spoon drew his attention to the other person at the table. He’d been so focused that he hadn’t even noticed the child. He stared at the tiny wings blankly before looking back at his father. God stared back, a rather mock innocent look on his face. “what?” he asked, Gabriel’s expression went completely incredulous. “He’s not an archangel, Gabriel. Not really, look a bit closer.” Uncertain Gabriel did as told studying the little angels Grace for a long moment before realizing what he was actually looking at.

Nephil. The little boy happily demolishing a bowl of chocolate ice cream was a nephil. But. No there was more to it, the child’s Grace felt familiar he realized his growing horror. Very very familiar. It was his. The grace he felt twined into the child’s human soul, was his own. He made a strangled noise of terror and tried to bolt only to find his wings unable to move. “Gabriel.” God was watching him with some concern. “I’m not angry about him, Gabriel. Do you think I would be sitting here eating ice cream with him if I was?” Gabriel felt his panic slowly ebbing away, he distantly noted he was glowing slightly and his wings had nearly manifested completely. Something that would have vaporized the city if he wasn’t paying attention. He shivered and pulled his Grace back under his vessels skin, feeling the barrier his father had placed around him fade as he did so.

The boy continued to eat his ice cream. Oblivious to the drama going on across the table. Gabriel stared at him uncertainly. He looked about five or so, but he still wasn’t quite…

“Lily Potter.” God cut in helpfully, his voice unbelievably dry. Gabriel winced, yeah, he seemed to be more annoyed about the sleeping around then the technically forbidden child. Gabriel remembered now though, the lovely red head with the most beautiful green eyes. eyes her son appeared to have inherited. He had been at a pub in London, she had been staring at a shot glass morosely. He’d sat down being his usual self and as such things did one thing led to another. She’d been gone in the morning, and he hadn’t thought anything more of it. she hadn’t been a normal human, but then natural witches although not common weren’t exactly rare, he’d known what she was. Just as he’d known she would have thought he was a normal human. Wait... that name… something niggled at the back of his mind, her name sounded familiar. God just watched him patiently while Gabriel worked it out. “and the penny drops” he muttered sardonically as Gabriel’s eyes widened in horror and he snapped his gaze back to the five-year-old. Or rather, to the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

He reached out with his Grace, feeling the mark, only to not sense the malignant darkness that was supposed to be there.

“His grace destroyed it the moment it attempted to latch on.” God pointed out. Gabriel blinked, glad his son (if he thought about that to hard he was going to freak out) was free of the corrupted soul fragment, but still, the prophecy the boy was bound to was still valid. But….if he wasn’t where he was supposed to be.. “Given his nature.” God added. “I couldn’t leave him where he was, between the human magic he holds and his grace he would have incinerated approximately the entirety of the UK on his eighth birthday.” Well crap, Gabriel thought with a wince. Wait a second….he couldn’t mean for him to..

                He shot a wary look at his father, God smirked, Gabriel resisted the urge to cringe. He had absolutely _no idea_ how to raise a kid! Let alone the half archangel savior of the wizards!

                “It’s not quite as hard as you might think.” God pointed out, still smirking. “Children don't need much, just love, and care...” his smile turned a bit ominous. “And the firm conviction that if they deliberately screw up, you _will_ make sure they suffer the consequences.” Oh Gabriel _really_ didn’t like the sound of that. Dad was _plotting._

 _“_ This is pay back for all those pranks, isn’t it?” he finally managed to get out. God shrugged, amused. “Right.” Gabriel muttered to himself, shooting another look at the little Nephil and his bowl of ice cream. Ok, he could do this. The magic’s keeping the boy focused on his ice-cream faded away. He blinked and looked up and them both curiously. Gabriel froze, his mind going completely blank as he tried to come up with something to say.

                “Did you finish your ice cream, Hadrian?” God asked. Hadrian nodded excitedly before apparently noticing Gabriel. He blinked up at the archangel, his wings fluffing up slightly.

                “Who are you?” he asked curiously, a wary edge to his face.

                “Um..well.” Gabriel began not entirely sure how to phrase this...

                “This is your father, Hadrian. I did tell you I would find him for you, didn’t I? he’s going to take care of you now.” God informed the five year old who turned awed eyes to Gabriel.

                “you…you’re really my daddy?” he asked hopefully. Whatever reservations Gabriel might have had about the little boy promptly melted in the face of those big green eyes.

                “Guess so kiddo,” Gabriel answered with a faintly nervous smile. A moment later he was almost knocked out of his chair as the little boy tackled him. Gabriel blinked, started for a moment before returning the hug. He glanced back to God once more only for his Father to smile and vanish. Gabriel rolled his eyes at this and turned his attention back to hugging the child in his arms.

X X X

 


	3. Never part of the Plan 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never part of the Plan
> 
> When dean broke in hell something strange happened and Dean vanished. A month later Dean turns up on Earth just fine. Now everyone is scrambling to figure out how Dean learned about The Plan. And how to get the apocalypse back on track. Unfortunately for them Dean has a bit more than luck going for him this time.

Dean stared at the soul in front of him, the woman was staring back in terror - her eyes darting back and forth between him and the glinting knife in his hand. Alistair was at his shoulder looking at the woman with interest. "Let’s see here." the demon hummed thoughtfully as another demon handed him a scrap of paper, he inspected it intently before nodding. "Oh, very nice. 32 counts of rape, all of children under the age of 7. With one count of murder - namely of the last of the children in question." He looked up at the woman - his grin wolfish. "Not very impressive by Hells standards, but I think Dean will agree that you have been a very bad girl and I think you know what we do with bad little girls down here." Dean didn't even react to Alistair’s words, he was still staring at the woman wordlessly. Alistair had been very clear that he could refuse to touch the woman at any point, but if he did - well, it was right back on the rack for him and Alistair would be very disappointed in him.

 

"Well Dean? Do you need a few pointers or do you want to just wing it for your first go?" Alistair asked brightly, Dean tightened his grip on the knife, resisting the urge to bury it in the demons face. Even if he could manage it fast enough it wasn't like it would actually hurt the demon.

 

Dean stepped forward only for the woman to start babbling frantically at him, he flinched back, startled. Alistair heaved a sigh. The woman’s eyes were feverishly bright as she begged. Babbling about how she had never hurt the children she just loved them so much and wanted to show them just how much she adored them. Dean stared at her blankly. Did the bitch think she was helping her case? Honestly with someone like this in front of him he wanted to rip her apart purely on principle, but, he knew what would happen to him if he did that. He wasn’t stupid, you don’t spend more than five minutes in hell without knowing how demons are created. This was the first step.

 

Alistair harrumphed next to him at the woman’s continued babbling and went to hunt around of the neat tray of knives and other…things that was balanced delicately on a rock next to them. With a happy ah ha he returned with a massive rusty needle and heavy metal wire. Dean barely blinked as he stitched the now muffledly screaming woman’s mouth shut. “There we go, honestly I prefer them being able to scream, but I will admit the begging gets a bit irritating sometimes.” He pointed out thoughtfully before glancing at Dean. “Now, I’ve given you a few concessions already Dean, I’m not usually this accommodating of my students.” He let that hang, Dean didn’t visibly acknowledge the threat. With a shudder he stepped forward raising the knife, the woman thrashed violently trying to break free of the chains that she hung from. He flinched back again, Alistair growled in annoyance behind him and Dean lashed out at the woman in blind terror at the sound.

 

The knife bit into the woman’s chest with a wet meaty sound, blood blossoming around the rusted blade. Dean flinched back at the muffled howl the woman made, actually leaving the blade behind in his rush to get away from her. Alistair blinked, a bit bemused, before heading after dean with what could best be described as exasperated amusement. He reached down to drag dean up off the ground. The hunters eyes were pinned on the blade buried in the woman’s chest. Frozen in horror and shock. But before the demon could haul the human off the floor, he vanished.

Alistair stared blankly at the empty patch of ground. There had been no flash of light, no gust of wind as something flashed by and snatched the damned hunter up, he’d just vanished. Poof, gone.

The demon scanned his surroundings in wary confusion before cursing. He did not want to explain to Lilith that he’d somehow managed to lose the righteous man when he was about three inches away from the little bastard. He turned his gaze back to the screaming woman, expression thoughtful. At least Dean had drawn blood before pulling his little vanishing act. Maybe heaven had stuck some kind of failsafe spell on him to pull the brat out the moment he’d broken the seal.

Fucking lovely.

X X X

It was pitch dark. This in of itself was odd Dean knew as he tried to figure out what had just happened. Hell contrary to what some might think, wasn’t dark, not even slightly. It were dark you wouldn’t be able to see all the horrible things going on. Admittedly the light was of the flickering hellfire variety. But in Hell there was quiet a lot of fire, so really quiet bright.

In his life as a hunter he had also become very well acquainted with the dark of Very Bad Things. This wasn’t that either. It was quiet here, wherever here was, and it felt safe. So. Not hell, and not anything overtly evil either.

Dean had to admit this was a first for him.

Normally the whole ‘wake up suddenly somewhere other than where you were’ thing was a nice downhill slide, not uphill.

An odd lethargy started to creep up on him, the aches and pains of his time in hell fading a bit as he drifted back off to sleep.

X X X

When Dean came to next it was with a violent start, he proceeded flail like a shot duck and managed to roll off of whatever he’d been laying on with a loud thump. Someone laughed. Dean cursed and shot to his feet only to wobble dangerously and be forced to grab the wall to keep himself on his upright.

He looked around wildly only to find himself in a rather nice looking hotel room. It looked like the Hilton or something, not somewhere he would normally find himself, it was too damn nice. Another glance found the person who had been laughing at him.

He was short with dark brown hair and neat beard. The white button down shirt and plain blue jeans made him look like any other moderately well-dressed guy you’d run into in a coffee shop. Not to threatening, but Dean had long learned to look passed the surface when dealing with people. The guy had old eyes, and they were a shade of blue that just a touch to bright to be natural. The guy gave him an appraising look before smiling wryly.

“You’re not an easy one to fool, Dean.” He conceded, amused. Dean just eyed him warily. Whoever the fuck this was had just grabbed him out of hell without so much as an instants warning, and had apparently gotten off scot free for his efforts. Thus, while Dean was normally gleefully belligerent in the face of the supernatural, he chose to test the waters a bit before he started cursing anyone out.

“Who the fuck are you?” (Well, mostly anyways.) The guy just looked at him with slight silent disapproval. Dean winced internally, he managed the _look_ worse than mom ever had. He resisted the urge to apologize, he wasn’t fucking three. “So? Got a name?” he asked trying to hide his discomfort. The guy stared at him for another long moment before rolling his eyes.

“I suppose that’s the closest I’ll get.” He overserved dryly. “You can call me Chuck, it’s what I’ve been going by for a few years now.”

“Right,” Dean agreed slowly, eyeing ‘Chuck’. “So, you pulled my ass out of the hot box?” he asked. Chuck sighed heavily his eyes looking even older in that moment.

“Yes, I did. I shouldn’t have needed to though.”

“Shouldn’t have needed to?” Dean echoed, annoyed. “I gonna get some speech about that damned deal now?” he demanded. Chuck raised both eye brows and gave him a dry look.

“Somehow, I doubt there’s anything I can say you haven’t already said to yourself more times than either of us cares to count.” He pointed out, and really Dean had to concede the point, but it was nice to know he wasn’t going to get another lecture. He _knew_ it had been stupid, he _knew_ he shouldn’t have done it. But he really didn’t need somebody getting up on their high horse and giving him their opinion on the matter.

“So what do you want then?” Dean asked, resigned to being in some creature’s debt, whether he would be worse off for it was debatable. Chuck looked depressed at the question.

“You don’t owe me Dean. If anything I owe you still, I could have pulled you out at any time, but I waited, it was their last chance to make a different choice. I thought that they would do the right thing.” He closed his eyes looking about ready to cry. “They’ve made their decision though, all I can do now is damage control.” Dean stared at him baffled and little angry.

“What the fuck are you going on about?” he demanded “You could have grabbed me the moment I ended up down there? Who the hell are ‘they’?” Chuck opened his eyes and stared morosely at the table for a long moment before picking up a bottle of whiskey that hadn’t been there a moment before and pouring himself a glass with a cup that also hadn’t been there. Dean blinked as the guy knocked back and entire glass and refilled it only to stare moodily at the amber liquid.

“It’s funny,” he muttered, “I can’t actually get dunk, not even If I really wanted to, but sometimes it’s the thought that counts.” Dean stared at Chuck for a long moment, not sure if he really wanted to bitch at the guy (or whatever) that had bailed him out of hell when he was obviously at the end of his rope.

Dean hesitated a moment longer before pulling out the other chair at the tiny little hotel table and sitting down. Just as silently as the first bottle and glass had appeared another glass blinked into existence already three fourths full of whiskey. He eyed it for a moment before snagging the glass and knocking back a third of the glass in one go. It burned nicely going down. He put the glass back down and considered ‘Chuck’.

“It’s probably not as bad as it seems.” Dean finally said, it was probably the closest Dean really ever got to being consoling. Chuck shot him a wane smile.

“I can see the future Dean, all of them. Saving you was the last chance to really change things for the better.” Dean quirked an eye brow up at that. Wondering just how he’d ended up being the lynch pin in anything like that. And moreover just who ‘Chuck’ could be that he could see that much. Even most pagan gods he knew of couldn’t boast being able to see all futures. Some of them sure, but not all.

“Then pick the one that sucks the least and work from there. Or say fuck it to future vision and fucking _make_ it work.” Chuck considered him curiously for a moment.

“You would make it work, wouldn’t you?” he asked with a faint smile. Dean snorted rudely and took another drink.

“Fuck fate, and fuck destiny. I give zero shits about whatever grand plan there may be. If I don’t like it I’ll do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody tells me what I can do. You say there’s some horrible future in store of us now? Well fuck that. If there isn’t a way you find one.” Chuck was looking at him a little startled now, before grinning at him. Dean rolled his eyes. “What?” he asked, annoyed. Chuck just shook his head still grinning rather lopsidedly at him.

“Your attitude is so refreshing.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Dude I just spent thirty years in hell and I’m still more optimistic then you, grow a backbone!” Chuck outright laughed at this eyes almost sparkling.

“So, rather than dance around it what the actual fuck is going on? And just who are you?” he asked after finishing off the last of his glass. A pleasant warmth now settled in his stomach from some damn good whiskey. Chuck was thoughtful for a moment and refilled Deans glass before answering.

“This is going to take a while.” He finally said, Dean shrugged.

“Then just give me the highlights.” He argued.

“Right.” Chuck muttered, frowning. “Heaven is real. As are angels.” He finally said. Dean froze, his glass halfway to his mouth. He stared at Chuck blankly.

“If angels are real,” he finally said. “Why the fuck aren’t they, you know, around? Wouldn’t angels at the least deal with demons?” normally Dean would be the first to deny the idea that Heaven was real or that angels were, but something about the whole conversation and chuck himself and Dean just knew somehow that he wasn’t lying. Chuck grimaced.

“The angels, for the most part, hate humanity. They see the whole apple incident and Lucifer’s fall as humanity’s fault. They don’t seem to get that humanity was designed to be ridiculously curious. You don’t point to something around a human and say ‘whatever you do don’t touch that’ and honestly expect it not to get poked with a stick a few times to find out why. Regardless of what Lucifer did one of them would have done it eventually. The only reason Lucifer got in trouble for it was that he was intentionally trying to get humanity into trouble. That’s what he was punished for.” Chuck paused and chugged another glass of whiskey before continuing. “So in light of that when God stepped out to try and make them grow up a little they promptly lost their shit and decided it was apocalypse time.” You could practically hear the crickets chirping in the silence that followed.

“And of course at this point he can’t really just drop back in because of free will and all that and it’s just generally miserable all the way around.” Dean stared at him.

“Are you God?” he asked blankly. Chuck paused with his glass halfway to his mouth and heaved a sigh.

“Little too obvious that time wasn’t it?” He grumbled. Dean was staring in unabashed mystification. This guy….was God? No, _seriously,_ this was God?

“Uh…..” Chuck (God?) shot him a truly frustrated look.

“I was enjoying the nice sane conversation can we just pretend you didn’t figure that out?” he asked. Dean honestly wanted to demand where the fuck God had been but honestly, he had just explained it. And apparently the complete shitstorm was the angels having a meltdown rather than some grand plan.

“Uh, sure.” He finally answered, not really sure what Chuck (seriously _GOD?)_ would do if he pressed the issue. Chuck gave him a long and rather doubtful stare. Dean gave himself a mental shake and tried to move on to the more pressing issue (dude, this guy was God, he was talking to God _was_ there a more pressing issue?) Apocalypse. Lovely.

“So. How exactly is this apocalypse going down then?” he asked Chuck (honestly if he tried to think of him as God they were going to have an issue.)

X X X


	4. Holding onto Heaven 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During the song remains the same, Dean learns something terrifying. Contrary to what the angels have been telling him he’s not Michaels vessel, he IS Michael. He’s sent back to the future by his ‘past self’ with this knowledge. What can he do, now that he knows the truth?

Holding On to Heaven

 

X X X

Dean tried to keep calm as Michael burned Anna to dust. Uriel turned away from him to stare in shock at the Archangel . Michael studied Mary for a moment before looking over at the Angel. Dean could see his annoyance from across the room. “Michael.” Uriel acknowledged nervously. “I didn’t know.” He tried to explain. Dean all but rolled his eyes, little shit trying to weasel out of trouble, at least he knew Cas would kill him in the future. Dean managed to suppress a snort at the look the Angel was getting, Michael looked to be only barely restraining his own eye roll at the excuses.

“Goodbye Uriel.” He said dryly, and with an almost sarcastic snap of his fingers unceremoniously launched the Angel back into heaven. Dean hopped he landed badly. A brief glance made him flinch slightly, Michael frowned, the expression barely visible. Then turned back to Mary. Dean was pleased to see her not back down much, even with a fair idea of who this was she was dealing with.

“What did you do to John?” She demanded,

“John is fine.” Michael reassured, looking a little offended at the idea that John wouldn’t be fine.

“Who..What are you?” She demanded instead, panic starting to edge into her expression, Dean gave her a blank look from across the room. She knew they were dealing with Angels, and that this guys name was Michael. Was it that hard to connect the dots? Michaels only response was a faint smile and a condescending shh, before reaching out and putting her to sleep. Dean suppressed a growl as Mary crumpled to the floor. Michael considered her for a moment before turning his attention to Dean. With a grimace Dean pulled himself up, one hand holding his broken ribs in place.

“Well, this is unexpected.” Michael commented while walking over to him, Dean glared. Michael frowned at him, seemingly puzzled at his attitude. A look of realization flashed over his face after a moment followed by a not inconsiderable amount of alarm. “You don’t know.” Dean blinked at this, numbplused.

“Don’t know what?” he asked suspiciously. Michael seemed to stare off into space for a long puzzled and worried moment before focusing on him once more.

“Castiel was supposed to tell you shortly after pulling you out of Hell” he answered still distracted. He turned away a moment later. A barely conscious Cas appeared out of nowhere. Without the sound of wing beats Dean could only assume that Michael had pulled him there. Michael starred at Castiel for a long moment before turning back to Dean. His expression was utterly blank. “Who did this to him?” He asked flatly. Dean eyed him, more than a little taken aback by his apparent anger.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, if you mean the half conscious part – well it wasn’t easy getting me and Sam back in time to stop Anna.” He answered warily. Michael didn’t even blink.

“No, although that is part of it. He is Falling, but through no fault of his own, why has he been cut off from Heaven?”

“Well, supposedly you ordered that or something. Zachariah was never really specific and Cas didn’t want to talk about it. But as for the why, he tried to help me and Sam.” Michael blinked.

“Zachariah” he echoed blankly. “He was helping you? He was _supposed_ to help you, I gave him very specific orders. There were things he was supposed to tell you after retrieving you from Hell, obviously he didn’t for some reason.” turning back to Cas he reached out placing two fingers on the angels forehead. Cas flinched and made a pained sound. Michaels frown deepened. Dean glared venomously at Cas’s apparent pain, stepping forward to pull the angel away only to find himself frozen in place. Dean cursed internally and watched as Cas twitched again, his expression going pinched. For the angel who rarely seemed to react to pain, he might as well have been screaming.

“Brace yourself.” Michael said suddenly. For all that the Archangel wasn’t even looking at him he knew it was directed at him. A moment later the room rattled and glowed as light shown from Johns body. Dean flinched back in shock only realizing a moment later that his eyes should have burnt out by now. Seconds later the light intensified further and Dean got his first real look at an angels wings. The six titanic wings flared wide from Michaels back. They weren’t white or something like he would have thought… they were a shining metallic red. The color shimmered and shifted changing from the nearly black of dried blood to the almost pink of sunrise.

Something in Deans chest twinged at the sight, he shuddered even as the light faded away, the wings however remained. They folded down neatly on Michaels back, they shouldn’t have fit given how big they had looked a moment before, but somehow it worked without looking ridicules.

Cas blinked curiously, looking far better than he had moments before. Deans eyes were drawn to the shiny black feathers he could see over Cas’s shoulder. He was all but transfixed for a moment; a dim memory came back to him. Hellfire and pain, and those gleaming wings sweeping overhead as their owner snatched him off the ground.

“Michael.” Cas acknowledged, looking relieved. He shot a look past the archangel at Dean who was still staring at his wings.

“I’v restored your Grace and Memories, do you remember your orders, Castiel?” Castiel focused back on Michael and nodded, a faint wince on his face.

“I’m sorry I failed you, Michael.” Cas said, Deans eyebrows shot up at the actual apology he could hear in his voice. Michael smiled faintly.

“You haven’t failed fledgling, the situation was beyond your control, it has worked itself out though- so it is fine.” He turned back to Dean. “Best to explain this how rather than risk Raphael erasing your memories again. “ Dean glanced between the two of them, wary.

“What the fuck are you two going on about?” he asked sourly. Michael sighed softly.

“Zachariah told you that you were my vessel?” he asked, Dean nodded, his glare intensifying. The corner of Michael lips quirked up in a faint smile. “This was a lie. Although not in the way you would assume. You aren’t my vessel, Dean, you’re _are_ me.” Dean starred, the words not quite computing.

“What?” he finally croaked, his eyes flashing to Cas for confirmation. The younger angel just nodded.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you, Raphael found out about the plan and erased my orders.” The angel looked rather ashamed of himself.

“You…you can’t be serious. There is no fucking way I’m you!” Dean snarled taking a step back, he winced a moment later, the abrupt movement having unsettled his ribs. Michael frowned and Dean found himself rooted to the floor again. Dean glared when Michael stepped forward – pushing his hand aside and laying his own over the broken ribs. Feeling his ribs snap back into place was creepy given the fact that it didn’t hurt in the slightest. Michael moved back considering him thoughtfully. Dean tried not to think to hard about the warm feeling of the Archangels grace, and the automatic sense of _mine_ when he’d felt it.

“Before I send the three of you back I’ll free some of your memories, it should help you work though this as Castiel didn’t have the opportunity to break it to you gently.” Before Dean could get another word in edgewise Michael had tapped him on the forehead and everything went dark.

The next few hours were a haze of places he’d never been and people he’d never met. Lucifer before the Fall. _Heaven_ before the Fall, back when Heaven was the kind of place Humans told each other it was. Light and wings, and _Father_. Deans mind just about hung up on those memories. They were almost too strange to comprehend. He could remember being tiny, with fluffy red wings, and fluttering around the garden. He remembered another tiny archangel who glowed almost impossibly bright. Silver wings gleaming. _Samael._

How could you hate someone when you’d seen them like that? Bemused he let those memories flash passed. Never thought he’d use the world ‘Adorable’ to describe Lucifer. More memories came. Barely a hint of his total existence but enough to believe. Michael and Cas had been telling the truth.

He may have been Dean Winchester…

But he was also the Archangel Michael.

With that, he woke up.

X X X

He opened his eyes to the dirty ceiling of a dingy motel room. He blinked slowly his mind still adjusting to the sudden burst of memories. A few more occasionally flitting to the surface to distract him. After a moment he sat up and glanced around the empty room. Sams computer rested on the table along with a note. ‘ _went to get food’_ Dean nodded to himself before turning his thoughts back inward trying to puzzle himself out. He was kinda surprised to find he was still mostly ‘Dean’ rather than ‘Michael’ he supposed it was because past him had only knocked the highlights loose rather than everything.

When Sam opened the door twenty minutes later it was to find Dean sitting crosslegged on the bed and staring blankly at the wall. Something about the way he was sitting reminded Sam weirdly of Cas. “Dean?” He asked hopefully. Dean glanced at him rather unblinkingly for a long moment before shifting his gaze to Cas. Who had followed Sam back to the room and was now shutting the door.

“I did not tell him, I felt you would wish to do so yourself.” Cas explained. Dean’s focus shifted back to Sam for a moment. With a sigh Dean looked away, the strangeness seeming to melt out of him.

“Right.” He muttered dragging a hand down his face tiredly. “I hope you grabbed pie, Sam.”

X X X

“You’re Michael.” Sam echoed blankly. Dean shifted uncomfortably, unwilling to meet Sams eyes. He just nodded silently. Sam starred, incredulous. “So…this is like with Anna then? You fell?” Sam asked. Dean bristled, turning a glare on Sam.

“I did NOT _Fall_.” He snapped, outraged for reasons he didn’t totally understand yet. Cas intervened before Dean gave in to the urge to lunge across the bed and slug Sam.

“This is very different Sam. For an Angel to Fall, they must either forsake Heaven and turn their back on Father or be barred from Heaven by Father or one of the Archangels. No one save Father himself is capable of casting Michael down, and he would never turn his back on Father. This is different.” Sam blinked and looked at Dean apologetically.

“Sorry.” He muttered, Dean eyed him before settling back with a grumble.

“It’s fine, you didn’t know.” He acknowledged with a huff. Sam smiled faintly before glancing over at Cas, then back to Dean/Michael again.

“So, your Michael, and Lucifer’s out of the box, now what? Is the apocalypse still on? Or was that never the plan?” Sam asked. Dean blinked and stared at him blankly for a moment before answering.

“The Plan is…complicated.” Dean finally said. “I wanted Lucifer out of the Cage, but… I never wanted to kill him. I can’t. I don’t….” Dean ran a frustrated hand through his hair, trying to find the right words to explain this. “I want to save him, Sam. But I wasn’t willing to do that at someone else’s expense. I knew that if I started the apocalypse that whoever ended up being the Righteous man would go to Hell and break. I couldn’t do that to an innocent soul for my own gain. I couldn’t ask someone else to go to Hell for me so I could try and save Lucifer one more time, so I became human to do it myself.”

“So…the deal was just a set up then.. a way to get your human self into hell to break the seal.”Sam said quietly. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. There had always been that crushing guilt, of knowing that Dean had gone to Hell to save _him._ But at the same time there was the knowledge that Dean cared about him enough to suffer what he thought at the time, to be an eternity of suffering, for him. To know now that Dean hadn’t really gone to Hell for him, but for Lucifer, he wasn’t sure what to think about that.

Dean was already shaking his head though, even as he spoke. “That’s not, Sam… I had no way of knowing how it was going to go. I knew that the righteous man had to choose to go to Hell. And that if I took that souls place I would follow that destiny. But I didn’t know how or why I would be going. Sam. Michael may have gone to Hell for Lucifer, Sam, but I went to Hell for you.” Sam winced, wildly uncomfortable. Dean, seeing this, gave a ghost of his usual grin. “Ok, enough chick flick shit, we still have an apocalypse to stop.” Sam smiled back, glad for the break in tension.

“So, we need to stop Lucifer, then- how?” he asked. Dean sighed and shook his head.

“Stopping Lucifer won’t stop the Apocalypse. There’s a bunch of other shit we need to head off. The horsemen to start with. “ Dean answered with a frown. Sam nodded, then hesitated.

“Um, would you rather be called Dean or Michael?” he asked, Dean blinked.

“Uh, Dean. It complicated and while I remember _some_ of being Michael I’m still more Dean then him, so- Dean” Dean shrugged, Sam nodded, glad – he wasn’t sure if he would have been able to get used to calling Dean, Michael. In the end he supposed he would have to however.

“I will begin the search for the horsemen.” Cas commented rather abruptly. The brothers blinked and looked over at him startled, what with their moment they had almost forgotten the angel was there.

“Right, Sam – if you could start looking for weird occurances that match those two idiots M.O. that would be good. “ Sam nodded.

“What are you going to be doing?” He asked, curious. Dean grinned halfheartedly.

“Trying to remember where the fuck I stashed my grace.” He paused, frowning. “Unless Cas knows. Cas?” he looked over at the Angel. Castiel shook his head.

“You had yet to decide exactly what you were going to do with it when you gave me my orders, and you thought it to dangerus for anyone to know where it was anyways.” Dean grimaced at this and sighed – running a hand through his hair.

“Me and my paranoia.” He muttered darkly.

X X X

It was the next afternoon, with Sam still hunting omens on the internet when Dean all but jumped off the beat up motel mattress. “AH HA!!” he crowed loudly making Sam fumble his computer and nearly topple off the other bed.

“The fuck was that about!” Sam snapped, frustrated and a bit sleep deprived, he’d been up all night thinking about the fact that his big brother was actually an Archangel. Dean ignored his and yanked the string of the necklace he almost never removed off his neck. The tiny gold figuring glinted dully in the light. Dean muttered to himself prodding at it. “Dean?” Sam asked again, confused “DEAN!” he snapped. Dean blinked and looked over at him.

“Dude, what?” he answered, annoyed.

“What are you yelling about? Whats wrong with the necklace?” Sam demanded. Dean blinked at him before grinning.

“My Grace should be in it!” He answered before going back to prodding the gold pendant. “But I’m not sure how to get it out, most of the time these things are touch activated, but I can’t have done that since I’ve had it on me for years and there was no spontaneous reintegration’s.” He frowned turning it over in his hands. “I can’t even sense it.” he muttered. His expression went distant for a moment before Cas abruptly appeared at his shoulder – also peering at the pendant. “It should be in here, but can’t sense anything. I suppose I’m still running on human abilities though so that’s not odd. I can’t remember how to get it out of the pendant though.”

Cas’s own frown deepened slightly. “May I take a closer look?” he asked. Dean nodded and handed over the pendant. Castiel studied it intently his frown deepening in puzzlement.

“What?” Dean asked worriedly. Cas looked up at him uncertainly.

“Your Grace….it..it _was_ here. Perhaps not even an hour ago – but it’s gone now.” Sam and Dean stared at him in horror.

“But…HE WAS HERE THE WHOLE TIME!” Sam squawked. “I mean even if someone broke into the room without out us noticing them, how could they have kept us from noticing the Grace getting transferred to something else? There no way that would be any kind of subtle!!!!” Dean had gone a rather sickly shade of white at Castiel’s announcement and could only stare at the pendant in numb horror. Cas’s frown deepened suddenly as he continued to examine the pendant.

“I believe there may be cause to not panic.” He finally said. Sam and Dean both snapped their attention back to him.

“How is this _possibly_ not a reason to panic?” Dean growled. Wondering who the hell had run off with his Grace and the sheer level of destruction they would cause whether they meant to or not.

“I think Father took it.” he answered. Dean paused mid rant and stared at him dumbfounded.

“Why?” Dean asked uncertainly, his expression a bit lost.

“There are traces of power left behind on the amulet. It is degrading quickly but it feels like Fathers Grace.” Dean stared at him not seeming to know what to say to that.

“But, why would he take it?” he asked, confused and a little hurt that Father would return after so long only to steal his Grace from its hiding place.

“Maybe he didn’t like you starting the apocalypse even if you have no intention of letting it go all the way?” Sam pointed out. Dean snapped his gaze around to his brother, his expression almost hyper focused on him.

“So what? This is a punishment? He left me in charge and fucked off somewhere! I decided to deal with the situation my way and now he’s pissed at me? _if he wanted an opinion he should have stuck around!”_ Sam almost wanted to smile, there was the big brother he knew and loved. Dear old bitchy Dean.

“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it would just be bad for you to go back to being Michael right now?” Sam pointed out. Dean paused looking thoughtful at this. Before nodding slowly.

“It could be either one honestly.” He muttered grumpily.

“Well either way we have things to deal with right now, we have to find Lucifer and try and convince him to stop. If anyone’s going to be able to do that it’s you. Maybe your chances are better if your human?” Dean gave his bother a considering look at this.

“We never wanted to kill each other. I may have done what Father wanted me to do, but I never _wanted_ to. If Lucifer wants to continue this he will have to kill me, and now it won’t even be in a real fight, I’m human – if he wants all humans to die he has to kill me as well now.” Dean looked thoughtful now. Sam gave him a worried look.

“Uh, let’s leave dying as a last resort ok?” Dean shot him an amused look.

“Don’t worry so much Sam, it’ll be fine.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” he answered dryly.

X X X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one has an entire plot already laid out, its the one most likely to be continued sometime soon.


End file.
